For a cocktail of reasons, we’ve long wanted to post some shorter entries about various things that catch our eye: first, shorter entries make it easier for you, dear reader, to clandestinely read HtoM posts at work; second, shorter entries are easier for us to clandestinely scribble out at work; third, we’ve been wanting to have a few regular features on the site; fourth, as some of you more observant readers might discern from the phone number tag on this post, we love a spirited, civil discussion about food and all things food-related.
Assuming you made it through the above layover in Sentence Chunkytown, I’d like to present our first 555-4444:
Blake Royer of The Paupered Chef has a lovely post about raw milk, including a touching mention of “the luxury of gulping down fresh, good milk” that the substance grants his girlfriend. This morning finds Pim Techamuanvivit luxuriating further in the pleasures of the raw (like “buttah“), with the added frisson that comes from knowing it’s milk from her own cow. A few days earlier, The New York Times and The Washington Post wondered respectively about the dangers and rewards of raw dairy products.
I think (and have always thought) that raw milk is the bee’s knees, especially since I live near this fine establishment.
What are your thoughts about the stuff?